I should have been ordering a ‘flat white’

I signed up for a barista course to learn more about coffee, but I walked away with a deeper respect for the craft, the people, and the passion behind every cup. From childhood memories to frothing milk, this is the story of how my love for coffee got personal and why I should perhaps be ordering a flat white.

A steep learning curve awaits when you step out of your comfort zone. Sometimes, a shift in thinking occurs, and you end up gaining a new perspective on life, or in my case, coffee.

I recently signed up for a six-hour introductory barista course at Klaasvoogds Loft, in collaboration with Deon de Bruyn from Café Hugo in Worcester. 

Why did I do it? 

• I love coffee shops.

• I love remote working from different coffee shops.

• I love a single-shot cappuccino.

• But most of all, I love stories — including the ones behind local coffee brands.

(As a dreamer, I also love the idea of opening an intimate small-town coffee shop/bookshop. Although I think that Winifred and Sylvie - my newly discovered fictional duo at the Novel Eatery in Riviersvalleij - might caution against this pursuit!) 

To really understand how a barista course changed the way I see (and sip) coffee, I need to rewind the clock. 

A respect for my past

My coffee journey started in the 70s and 80s, when, as a child, coffee was instant: Nescafé, Jacobs, or Koffiehuis - depending on where you stood in the instant coffee debate - and a rusk. 

Then came the 90s, and with it, pop culture coffee: Frasier, Friends, Gilmore Girls — all of which normalised and romanticised the coffee shop as a hub for witty banter, intellectual musings, and emotional meltdowns over lattés. I was hooked.

As we transitioned into the 21st century, our local coffee shop culture boomed, transitioning into accessible and trendy remote working spaces and becoming the perfect destinations for freelancers, writers, and creative souls craving connection (and coffee). 

Even though I initially wasn’t a huge fan of the taste (thanks again, instant coffee), I joined the movement. My drink of choice? A single-shot cappuccino.

This made me realise that coffee deserves a moment. 

A respect for the bean

Learning about coffee reminded me of wine: it’s not just a drink — it’s a story that’s shaped by geography, climate, craftsmanship, and history.

Coffee’s origin story involves a little red berry and a curious herd of goats in Ethiopia over a thousand years ago. Legend has it that a fire, a few farmers — and maybe even a monk — led to the discovery of coffee. From there, the beans made their way across the Arab world, eventually becoming a global commodity. 

Here are some fun and interesting facts I learned on the course:

Coffee beans come from two types of trees:

• The Robusta tree (used for instant coffee). 

• The Arabica tree (used for espresso) grows in tropical, high-altitude regions like Ethiopia, South America, and India, with each region's coffee bean flavour profile and tasting notes influenced by terroir: the soil, climate, and altitude.

The coffee bean process - from farm to cup:

• Harvest ripe red berries.

• Remove the flesh to get to the green seed.

• Dry it.

• Export it (@ ± R16,000 for 70kg).

• Roast it — light, medium, or dark.

All that, just to become part of our everyday stories.

A respect for the brand story

We are wired for story, and a brand’s story invites us in, making us feel part of the journey and differentiating one brand from another. 

In my experience and research, the backstory of a coffee brand or roastery always speaks to passion, craftsmanship, culture, and sustainability. 

In this case, the man behind the roast was Deon de Bruyn, our trainer and local coffee hero. A high school maths and computer science teacher for 25 years, Deon began roasting beans in his garage as a side hustle passion project.  

There’s a story there, and it's a good one. 

One fateful tasting later, a local business owner gave him a ‘shot’ at running a coffee shop, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Now, he’s a proud owner and roaster at Hugo Boutique Coffee - and the kind of person whose artisanal enthusiasm for coffee makes you fall even deeper in love with the brew. 

Learning from his 10+ years experience in the industry was a real privilege, and I’m grateful to have been his student for a day. 

A respect for the lingo (and frothing the milk)

Like any craft, coffee comes with its own vocabulary, and mastering the jargon isn’t about sounding pretentious. It’s about understanding what makes a good cup, whether it’s a plunger brew, a filter pour, or a silky cortado.

The language of coffee

Our barista course kicked off with a crash course in coffee-speak. We covered:

• Espresso machine anatomy (who knew there were so many parts?)

• Bean storage best practices

• The art of tamping — that crucial press that affects the entire extraction

• Créma quality — that golden layer on top of a 14g/60ml espresso shot, which reveals everything about grind size and bean freshness

• The difference between single origin, house blends, and roaster’s blends

And then came the menu breakdown — a deep dive into the makeup and ratios of all the café classics: from Affogato to Ristretto, and everything in between.

Blade grinder vs Burr grinder (A hill Deon will die on)

If Deon drilled one thing into us, it was this: Ditch the blade grinder. Get a burr grinder.

Why? Because burr grinders give you a consistent, even grind, essential for extracting a proper shot. Blade grinders just hack your beans into uneven bits. So if you’re serious about coffee, this is the one investment he’d insist on.

Practice makes espresso

Then came the hands-on part: pulling the perfect shot. 

Deon promised we’d each get that beautiful espresso stream — known as a rat’s tail — on our first go. Surprisingly, we did.

Our confidence was sky-high. Until we got to the milk.

Enter the microfoam meltdown

Deon had warned us: Steaming milk is an art. It takes time. Two years, in his case, to get it just right. So no, we weren’t going to master micro-textured milk in one morning.

As he explained the technique — how the amount of air incorporated affects the texture — I had a revelation: I probably should’ve been ordering a flat white all along, not a cappuccino.

Here’s the difference: 

• Cappuccino: airy, fluffy foam; lots of volume, more air

• Flat white: silky, velvety, glossy microfoam with minimal air — a smoother, more integrated mouthfeel

Who knew steamed milk had this much nuance?

The coffee cupping (Technically not a tasting)

Next up was a blind coffee cupping — an industry-standard sensory test to evaluate acidity, body, aroma, flavour, and roast strength. It involves brewing coarsely ground espresso with hot water.

Tasked with distinguishing between 3 single roasts, we all set about smelling, slurping, swishing, swallowing, and pretending we could tell the difference between:

• Guatemalan: chocolatey, smoky, medium-dark roast, heavier-bodied

• Colombian: rich caramel notes, bold dark roast

• Ethiopian: lighter, with grassy and cinnamon aroma notes

(I have to admit, I did come bottom of the class in this test, but I still got my certificate.) 

A respect for the barista

At the end of the day, a great cappuccino, flat white, americano, latte, etc., isn’t just about the beans or the machine.

It’s about the barista.

You can have the finest (and freshest) single-origin roast, and the most high-tech espresso setup — but without skill, technique, and a trained eye, your cup might still fall flat.

After spending just a few hours in their shoes, I walked away with deep admiration for the craft. Baristas aren’t just button-pressers behind a counter — they’re artisans operating at the intersection of craftsmanship, science, and hospitality.

They manage variables most of us don’t even think about:

• Grind size

• Extraction time

• Brew ratios

• Water temperature

• Milk texture

• And the delicate calibration of an espresso machine

That kind of mastery doesn’t happen overnight; it’s learned, honed, and perfected over time.

I’m lucky. In my small town, I know three brilliant baristas by name. They know my order — a single-shot cappuccino — and they make it with care, precision, and pride. Every time.

Now that I’ve glimpsed the behind-the-scenes world of coffee, I may just convert to a single-shot flat white. (Milk texture, I’ve learned, is everything.)

But honestly? It’s not about the order anymore.

I went in wanting to understand coffee. I came out with something richer: Respect. 

Respect for the people, the process, and the quiet artistry behind every great cup of coffee.

Because yes, coffee begins with a bean — but it’s brought to life by skilled hands, curious minds, a relentless pursuit of excellence, and passionate hearts.

---

Written by Leanne Johnson